Order of the Dragon
by vengeancedemon
Summary: Spike and Buffy encounter a strange vampire that has ties to Dracula in Sunnydale. While the infamous vampire hunts down the slayer, the two must figure out their relationship with each other. (Higher rating for language and later possible smut).
1. Chapter 1

Spike stomped through the muddy ground on the cool summer night. The sky was overtaken by southern California smog, preventing stars, and the hot cigarette smoke burned in his lungs, leaving the cool menthol taste in his mouth. He ran his hand over his hair as he leaned against the tree and felt the empty, longing feeling fill him. Would she walk by? Was there something happening in this place tonight that would cause her to be here? He hoped so. He was filled with so much hope he could burst, but at the same time a kind of crushing realization that even if she did come, she would not want to talk to him or even see him, be near him. She hated him, and that killed him a little.

He felt the earth beneath his feet shudder, and it was then he realized he was standing on a grave. The dirt loosened as a hand shot out of it, shoving dirt and rock out of the way as the vampire beneath him forced his way out of the grave. Spike welcomed the invitation for violence and threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out, readying himself. As the vampire crawled out, Spike grabbed her by the collar and fist colliding with face, let her fall into the tombstone behind her. She recovered quickly and charged at him, brow wrinkly and all. Spike knew she wasn't going to win as she came at him. He stepped to the side and threw her on the ground. There was a little bounce in his step as he righted himself and a crooked grin widened across his chiseled face when he almost pounced to pick her up and punch her in the—she grabbed him by the jacket and head-butted him, causing him to lose his balance. She straddled his torso, punching him in the face. This was it, he'd lost.

The weight was lifted and blonde hair whipping around her face, the Slayer had grabbed the new vampire off of Spike and staked her, dust falling where the attacking vamp had stood. Buffy helped Spike to his feet but did not attempt to seem like she cared that he could have died. "Spike, what the hell are you doing out here?" Her tone was not one of concern, but annoyance.

"Just getting in a little exercise for the night. What'd you go and do that for? I had her!" The lie was not covering up anything. God, she was so damn beautiful. Why the hell did she need to wear such fitted clothing… he felt anger surge through him at his desire.

"Clearly. A 'thank you' would be in order, but since it's you, Spike, really, don't mention it. I mean that." She dusted herself off and began to walk away. He felt a tug at his core and began to walk after her, his trench coat flapping around his ankles. Stepping in line with her, he opened his mouth to talk, but she cut him off. "Why are you walking with me?"

"Well excuse me for thinking I could help you. We could fight the big bad, you and me. It'll at least give me something to do since I can't eat anyone." She stopped walking and stared at him with this look of bewilderment and disgust on her face.

"No thanks. I can do this without you getting in my way. Besides, don't you have some kittens to place in a betting pool or something?"

"I'm not exactly the favorite of the local demon crowd right now, if you must know. This bloody chip in my head makes it so I can't eat anyone and the only thing to fight is demons, so they all hate me. But fine, if you don't want my help I'll be on my way." He held up his palms, turned out, feigning exasperation and hiding the pang of rejection that weighed on him. She sighed heavily and started to walk away.

"Fine. But if I have to keep saving you, I'll stake you myself to save the trouble." He followed closely as she began to walk away, just glad to be next to her and that she let him come with. That girl was driving him crazy, making him mad with want, but he couldn't help putting himself in situations that were near her. What the hell was he doing? She'd never want him, but yet here he was, making a fool of himself by almost getting killed by a brand new vamp just to be near her.

As they meandered their way through the cemetery in silence, Buffy began to wonder. Why was he so eager to help all of a sudden? He basically was the big bad, and here he was, jumping at the chance to fight it. Xander would never approve of her letting him come along. But she couldn't refuse. Why did she let him? She wasn't sure of the relationship with Spike anymore. Was he good or bad? Or was he the grey area? If the chip was gone right then, would he keep walking with her to help her patrol? She didn't think so. It was Spike, for crying out loud. He would turn evil the minute the chip was gone and he could kill again. He'd come after her to kill her the moment he could. She couldn't be too careful with him.

But then again, he was helping her. And he had saved her on numerous occasions. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"You alright?" He asked, glancing over at her. His cold demeanor softened and Buffy felt a little confused that he cared.

"Why?"

"You don't look alright."

"I'm fine."

"You can lie to yourself, Slayer, but you can't lie to me. I know you're not." He stared directly ahead, not making eye contact with her, but she felt something. Did he care? Was this him showing that he cared?

"I've just… got a lot going on, that's all." She felt a chill run through her, and eyes on her. Motioning for Spike to quiet and for him to stop walking, she listened hard. Something was nearby, watching her. Where? Closing her eyes, she focused on her hearing.

Soft footsteps padding on the grass. Something big… to her left. She made a dash for the bushes and pulled out a vampire wearing leather armor. As she hoisted him out, he swung a sword at her. Ducking, she swung her leg around, knocking him down at the knees. Spike took the opportunity to dash over at her and swing at the vampire as he began to stand, missing and falling forward with the momentum.

Buffy grabbed his forearm as the vampire swung the broadsword again, twisting it behind his back and bending his arm over her knee with a snap and disarming him. His sword in her hand and stepping back to get her footing, she decapitated him in one swift move as Spike came running back to her. "That arse was bloody fast. You alright?" She nodded, breathing heavily as the fight caught up with her.

"Who the hell was that?" She asked.

"Hell if I know. Let's get that back to Giles." Spike motioned at the sword Buffy still held in her hand. The sword had a white handle and the guard on one end was the head and on the other end was the tail of a snake. The handle twisted down into a gold disk. Buffy nodded.

"Good idea." She glanced around her and down at herself and then at Spike. "Let me see your coat." She held her hand out expectantly.

"What for?!"

"I can't go walking into town with a broadsword! Give me your coat." He handed it to her and she put it on, holding the sword in the inside of the coat, blocking it from view. "Let's go."

He would have protested her wearing it, but looking at it on her, he realized he kind of liked her wearing his coat. It was too big on her, way too broad and long, but despite swamping her, it looked adorable. He felt his heart flutter and he mentally cursed at his weakness. They began walking back to town, past the tombstones and the mausoleums in the chilly night.


	2. Chapter 2

"And what did this particular vampire look like?" Giles pulled his glasses off of his face and wiped them on his shirt. He put them back on and looked closely at the sword, clearing his throat.

"He was wearing this outfit, something almost y'know, knight-ish. Waving the big sword at me."

"A vampire in medieval garb? That's quite uncommon. Let me see if I can find this blade in my books. There's a cross here, on the blade, that might be the mark of some kind of order. In the meantime, I suggest you lay low, both of you. If he attacked you, Buffy, it means this order or whatnot knows who you are and where you usually are. Better to be safe than sorry." Rupert stood up straight and placed the sword on the table of the Magic Shop. "Spike just… don't get in her way." Giles sighed heavily and bent over the books.

"Alrighty, Giles. I'm gonna head home, get some sleep. I'm done patrolling for the night and I'm gonna make sure Dawn gets to bed." She glanced over at Spike and walked out. He looked at the older gentleman, and upon realizing the man didn't care and that worry was gnawing at him, quickly walked after her. The bell rang as the door closed behind him and he called after Buffy to catch up with her.

"Slayer!" He caught up to her and kept pace. "Don't want you getting jumped again. I'll walk you home." They were strained as they walked in silence before Buffy had had enough.

"What do you want, Spike? Why won't you leave me be?" She seemed tired and confused with him.

"I just said. Vampires." His excuse was as empty as the street they were walking on. "Also, you're still wearing my jacket and you never told me what was wrong with you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and breathing in the sweet menthol smoke.

"Here, take it." She began to shrug it off, a little peeved at herself for forgetting she was wearing it. If she'd admit it to herself, she'd realize that she liked wearing it, that it smelled like him, a very light musk with the tint of cigarette smoke and that she loved that. She loved the feel of the leather on her shoulders, heavy and a little stiff, and how when her arms swung, and if the leather was in the right place, it would squeak a little. He stopped her and pulled it back up onto her shoulders.

"Keep wearing it, pet. It suits you."

Her stomach was knotting itself from confusion. What was she feeling right then? Wearing his jacket made her feel warm and her cheeks tingle. She felt like a schoolgirl. She realized she never answered his question. "A lot of things are wrong with me Spike. Why do you care?"

"What because I'm undead I'm supposed to not care?" He stopped walking and looked straight at her. She stopped too and sighed.

"Oh y'know, you've only tried to kill me on numerous occasions and have blatantly expressed your hate for me."

"Just tell me." He rolled his eyes.

"My mom's really sick, okay?" Her eyes downcast, she kept walking. Spike was silenced by that statement, and was unsure what to respond with.

"Will she be alright?"

"We don't know."

They continued in silence, and Spike pulled his hand out of his pocket and slid it into the sleeve of his leather jacket, taking hers. She flinched, and yanked her hand away. "Spike what're you—" He grabbed her hand again and drew her closer, walking shoulder to shoulder with her. She was stunned and hesitant. Biting her bottom lip, she let him lead her home.

Spike led her up the front walk to her door and let go of her hand, facing her. "Well. I guess there's no more of those bloody vampire knights."

"I guess not." Buffy's voice was soft and weak. His eyes glanced over her face, taking in the whole sight of her. The way her hair curled around her cheekbones. The cute little upturn of her nose and the slight pout of her lips. The beautiful way her eyelashes framed her expressive eyes. "Here," she said, her voice hardening again as she regained herself, "your jacket." She tried taking it off again, but he stopped her.

"Borrow it. I'll have more reason to come rescue you from big bads if you've got something of mine. And hey," here his voice dropped and became more serious, "if you need a friend. Y'know." He brushed off what he said as if it were much more casual than it was. He turned and started walking off the steps and down the walkway. She was just too tired to fight what he said, too tired to deal with what her feelings were doing right then, that she forgot she was supposed to hate him. She watched as he disappeared down the street before going into her home and collapsing into her bed, forgetting the jacket was wrapped around her.

The sun streamed in, casting light across Buffy's face, waking her. She rolled over and realized she was still wearing Spike's coat. Sitting up, she pulled it off and realized it smelled like old cigarettes and him, and sniffed it lightly. It smelled so good. She wrapped it around herself and enjoyed the feel of the leather on her skin and the smell of him around her. She could feel herself waking up more and more and realizing what she was doing. Her eyes widened and she flung the jacket onto the floor. That was Spike's jacket.

What the hell was she doing? She held hands and opened up to Spike. The demon that had tried to kill her. He had tried to hurt her and her friends in the past. _But last night he protected me. Well, tried to. He seemed different. _She shook her head in disgust with herself. He was a vampire. She emphasized the fact to herself that he did not have a soul and therefore could not have feelings or care about her.

She got off the bed and picked up the jacket. At the very least, none of her friends could know that she was fraternizing with Spike. She stuffed it into her weapons trunk and got dressed. Pushing the thought of Spike out of her mind, she went downstairs for breakfast. "Hi mom. Hi Dawn." She kissed her mom on the cheek and glanced at her little sister. Dawn was pouring cereal and her mom was eating a little bit of fruit. Since the diagnosis of the tumor, her mom's appetite was diminishing and she ate less and less.

She stuffed down a banana and some toast and, kissing her mom and sister goodbye, headed out to The Magic Shop.


	3. Chapter 3

Spike tossed and turned in his coffin. He couldn't seem to get comfortable. His thoughts raced. He held her hand and she didn't beat him to a pulp. She has his jacket. Who the hell was that vampire? Why did that sword look so familiar? Why couldn't he sleep? He sighed deeply and rolled over again, thinking about Buffy. He daydreamed about her looking at him, kissing him, parting her lips and gasping his name, skin pressed to skin, sweat dripping, her breath hot on his cool skin. He shook his head. Should he be thinking about this? She is the Slayer.

Oh to hell with it. His hand shifted as he let his mind wander, thinking about the things he would do to her.

Buffy sneezed as she walked down the street to the Magic Shop. Willow, who was walking with her, said 'bless you'. "You know that means someone is thinking about you, right?" She handed Buffy a tissue.

"Really?" Buffy asked as she wiped her nose. "I wonder who it is." They pushed open the door to the store, ringing the bell that hung overhead as they stepped in. "Morning, Giles." She picked up the broadsword that she had left there the night before. "Any news on this baby?" She swung it around a little before setting it back down on the tabletop to listen to what he had to say.

"Yes, actually, a great deal." He pushed his glasses up his nose and grabbed a book off the shelf, bringing it over to the table and opening it to a certain page. On the page was an equal-armed red cross with what almost looked like golden leaves coming off each arm. The same symbol was etched into the blade of the sword near the hilt. "This is the symbol for a medieval order known as the Order of the Dragon. This order was mainly crusading for the spread of Christianity for the Ottoman Empire, in of course, a bloody way."

"What does that have to do with vampires?" Buffy pushed the book away, done looking at it.

"There was a very famous member of this order. The man's name was Vlad Tepes." Giles leaned back and let that sink in.

"Vlad who?" Buffy looked confused.

"Tepes, or more commonly known as Vlad the Impaler. Later, Dracula."

"Dracula has knights." She looked bewildered and slightly annoyed. Willow glanced at her sympathetically.

"It would appear so. And it would appear that Dracula has sent his brethren after you. You must be more careful from now on. We will continue training this afternoon if you're ready."

"I will be." Buffy put on her brave face. She wasn't sure if the others could see her crumbling. With her mother in the hospital, she felt helpless, and that wasn't something she felt often. She usually had a problem and dealt with it. She was so worried about her mother and about Dawn. But, she couldn't think about that right now. She had to focus on this new bad guy. If she let herself think about that too long, she would simply break down, and she could not afford to do that. What was going on with her? A hand rubbed her back gently. She started, looking over her shoulder and finding her big, handsome man. "Riley!" She smiled, hoping it didn't look too sad, and stood up to hug him. Her face nestled in his chest in that fond way that she adored, and she liked the way he smelled and the way it felt to be held. She couldn't help the hollow feeling in her, however. The gnawing worry. It felt that, although he was touching her, she couldn't really feel it.

"How's my girl?" He asked, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. He looked genuinely concerned, and maybe she needed that right now.

"I'm fine. Dealing." She buried her face back in his chest. "We've got a new big bad to worry about." She pulled away from him, glancing at him playfully, hiding the hurt under her coy façade. He looked so put together, so… clean. She realized he looked naïve. Did he even know anything? Did he know about her feelings? Did it matter, since she didn't show them? She sat down and tried to focus again. Her thoughts kept wandering, and she needed to have focus if she was going to take Dracula down. "So," she said, looking at Giles, "If I'm going to take him out, I should do some learning. What do we know about this vampire in particular?"

He pulled his glasses off and wiped them slowly on a kerchief he pulled from his pocket. "Well, Vlad Tepes, the young prince of Wallachia, was a member of this holy order, meant to protect Christianity for the Ottoman Empire. They were quite similar in many ways to the Templars—"

"Yawn. Giles, about what he does. What's his method of operation or whatever? Where can I find him?" She felt eager to get her butt-kicking on.

Spike was restless. He couldn't stop thinking about her and began pacing in the mausoleum. Was Dracula out there? Was he going to send men after Buffy again? Or was he going to fight her one on one? Why the hell was he worrying about the slayer? He didn't want to care about her or worry about her, but this aching feeling at his core was calling him to go out and kill the son of a bitch for Buffy. He fell against the wall and slid down to where he was sitting. "Bloody Slayer making me worry for the stupid bint." Anger welled in him for going soft. He drew his fist back and slapped it against the floor weakly. He couldn't hit any harder. He was losing energy just thinking about her and worrying about her. These damned feelings were draining him of his vitality. She was all he wanted. He hated himself for it, but he could at least be honest with himself about it.

Riley drew circles on her back with his index finger. Buffy was sitting on the couch of her home, waiting for the sun to go down so she could go out and patrol. With nothing to do but wait, she was getting restless. Her fingers drummed out a rhythm on her thighs in impatience. Riley watched her fidget endlessly, wishing he could do something. She was so cold to him. So gone. He felt his heart swell up with sadness and longing. He wished she loved him. He wished that she would admit to him that she didn't love him, and that she could be honest with herself. She was this whirlwind of grace and beauty and she was the fire that burned in him. But her fire was not for him. There was a wall between Buffy's heart and his, and he knew it. He wished he could protect her. He wished he could be what she wanted, what she needed. But he wasn't. He was a fool, a naïve fool who trailed behind her, wishing she'd love him.

Buffy stood suddenly and kissed Riley on the cheek, throwing on her red leather jacket and leaving the house in silence. Riley felt his desire return, and he stood in a daze, leaving the house to the side of town to get his fix.

The sun was going down. Buffy walked with purpose toward the cemetery, knowing there would be something there, somehow. She knew that Dracula would try again tonight, and she'd be ready to deal with him.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it's been a little while since I've posted! Please don't forget to review and let me know what you guys think so far. (:

Enjoy!

The knight's swinging arm collided with Buffy's head, vaulting her against a tombstone. As she righted herself, the knight began to charge. She gasped as he grabbed her by the throat and lifted her, her feet dangling, trying to kick or claw her way out of the vice grip that held her. Her vision became spotty. The vampire gasped and his fingers released her throat as he turned to dust, and behind the falling ash was the blond vampire. He helped her up, his touch tender and gentle. "Are you alright, love?"

She nodded, massaging her throat where the vampire had held her. Another one of these knight guys. What the hell? She shook it off and picked up her stake where she had dropped it. "So, I know who these guys are," Spike said semi-proudly. She gave him this look that made him feel stupid and that his information was unimportant.

"I know who they are, Spike. They're Dracula's men." She turned away from him and began to walk away.

"Do you know where you're going?" Spike huffed, following after Buffy. She ignored him and kept walking, and he felt a surge of anger fill him. He sped up, stopping in front of her. "Look, do you want to take him down or not?! He's just going to keep sending men after you until you take him down, girl." She looked around in frustration, anywhere but at Spike. She couldn't look at him. He was confusing her feelings, and she couldn't deal with that right now.

"No, Spike. I don't know where I'm going. I know he'll keep coming, but I don't know where he is or how to take him down. I don't know if he's more powerful than the normal vamp, and I don't know if I'll be able to take him. I don't know anything." Her choice of words seemed to him that she wasn't just talking about Drac anymore. His eyebrows furrowed and reflexively his head tilted with concern. "Don't look at me like that! Like you care!" Her words smacked against him and fell in the following silence. He didn't know how to respond to that. Should he tell her that he did care? Should he let her know that he would be here for her no matter what, that he'd walk to the ends of the earth for her?

"I can take you to him." It seemed so trivial. So stupid. He wanted to punch himself in the face. Back to business, he supposed. _'Cos God forbid I have feelings for the girl. _Superficially helpful and pretending he just wanted to help. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to feel her skin against his and to love her. He wanted her to let him do these things. He felt the overwhelming desire to lean forward and feel just how soft her lips where when—

"Do it." Her face was serious as she interrupted his thoughts. She did this thing with her lips when she was determined where she pulled them in and drew them thin. Her eyes set hard and her nostrils flared. He took in all the details of her and memorized them. He turned and led her through the cemetery.

"He always nabs a place that's big and ridiculous. I mean, can't a fella understand that the bigger the place, the more attention drawn to it? He puts a giant spotlight on us vamps, you know." Buffy rolled her eyes at the commentary, finding it somewhat difficult to keep up with him because his strides were longer. Spike kept talking about Dracula, something about 'cheap tricks' and 'illusions'. Buffy wanted him to grab her hand again and hold it. His hands were so strong and gentle and she wanted to feel them all over. "We're here."

All the windows dark but one, the huge mansion was surrounded by a heavy iron gate. Buffy shook it, and leaning back, kicked it hard. It swung open with a clangor that filled the night. They stepped together onto the grounds, and her senses sharpened. There was a powerful vamp here. She shuddered, drawing her red leather coat around her to try and warm herself up. An arm pulled her close as Spike drew her in. She stiffened. "What… what are you doing?" She asked as calmly as she could.

"You looked cold. Just trying to help." He pushed her off and straightened himself. He looked odd without the trench coat he let her borrow, and she remembered she hadn't given it back. He hadn't even asked for it. It struck her as odd that he hadn't. She shook her head clear of the thoughts of his muscular torso that strained against his black t-shirt. She had to focus.

Opening the heavy door of the mansion, she stepped into the candlelit front hall. Despite the amount of flames in the room, a chill ran through her. She felt something calling her forward, up the stairs at the end of the hall and into one of the wings. She didn't even notice when Spike was lost behind her.

A hand grabbed Spike and pulled him away from his Slayer. The hand belonged to a woman, clad in something that was wispy and covered barely anything. "Who the hell—" Her lips smashed against his, silencing him, and he instinctively breathed in, smelling her to see what she was. Vampire. She slid her hands up under his shirt and trailed her sharp nails over his pale stomach, feeling each curve of his muscles. His mind went blank with what he recognized as thrall. She was confusing him, filling his thoughts with her body and her lips to distract him.

Distract from what? He'd already forgotten. Her lips were so soft and her hands wandered over every bit of him and he wanted her so bad. Who was she? Did he care? She trailed kisses over his jaw and down his neck. She nestled her lips against his jugular, once filled with hot blood. She nicked him, tasting him just a little. She hissed and stepped back, confused. "You are not… you are a vampire." Her voice was heavy and laden with accent.

Once she had broken physical contact, she had also broken the spell. Spike drew his arm back and let his fist make contact with her face hard, grabbing her before she could fall and head-butting her. He chuckled as he watched her stumble back. He sighed in disbelief and snapped her neck. "Trying to keep me from Buffy. Stupid bint." He wiped her off of his lips and walked quickly away from the pile of dust. He had to find her.

The way she had wandered off, Spike knew she was probably under Drac's thrall. He was a powerful bastard, and he knew he had to help Buffy. _If that poofter lays a bloody hand on my Slayer, I swear, I'll rip his bloody head off._


End file.
